


never let me go

by Starsofgallifrey



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Compliant, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Pining, balcony, balcony kiss, it's based on the pictures and set videos we've seen, ivy's house, kiss, mutual feelings, penguin is really gay for riddler but whats to screw with him so he says he isnt, rain kiss, some angst stuff kinda, sort of canon-compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsofgallifrey/pseuds/Starsofgallifrey
Summary: Sometime post-3x15 Edward and the trio gain news from Ivy that she has been harboring Oswald at her home in the woods, and they go to see him to make negotiations for a future plot against the Court of Owls. Edward struggles with his own feelings toward's Oswald's return.





	never let me go

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my love, Gracie (@talkriddletome) after we both thought about Ed and Oswald kissing in the rain, on the balcony, to the song "Never Let Me Go" by Florence + the Machine.

Barbara Kean’s cool hand brushed against the bare skin of his fingers. He paid her no mind, remaining with crossed legs on the foreign couch; he was deep in thought. Or rather, the type of thought that helped one escape from thinking in and of itself. Void, if you will.

“Riddler,” she jabbed him urgently with her pointed nail for a third time. “Ah, I see _that_ name got your attention. Did you completely trash the name _Edward_? I thought it rather suited you. Sort of a dorky science nerd name.”

“Why do you care?” He humored her, watching as her lips curving the moment his eyes flicker to look up at hers.

“Don’t I always care?”

“No,” he deadpans, looking back down at his hands. Butch and Tabitha were bustling around in the kitchen, loud curses and bangs echoing throughout the small house. He realized sooner he didn’t care what they were up to before he could even begin to wonder.

Barbara looked tired. It wasn’t like her to look so casually worn in her out-of-home attire. And even when he _did_ see her at the Sirens, she always managed to look and act the part of a formal, bordering on derelict, hostess. He had most recently witnessed her seemingly taking a nosedive into some hell of her own. He waited a beat before he found himself initiating their conversation for the first time in weeks. “How are you-” he pauses, “them. How is everything with you and them?” He gestures to the kitchen.

More rattling, and a yell from Butch this time. Barbara stared at him for a moment almost mimicking human normalcy, but quickly shifted back to her own brick layer of self-defense. She feigned a unpunctured confidence, that even Ed could admire. Insecurity rattled him occasionally, but he worked around it, while she could somehow drown it in her own flair. It didn’t quite help her inexcusably childish nature to which he did not connect; despite him also recently detaching himself from his own humanity. It took her a while to respond after a session of empty, high-pitched, laughter.

“Now that’s a thing I don’t actually care about.” Her blue eyes followed Tabitha around the kitchen. Ed’s back was turned, but he knew that’s who she was watching. “Not at all,” Barbara added. Ed had been around the blonde maniac long enough to understand those words were meant to be cold.

“I know you,” he reiterated, “if you need me to help, or make something clear to either of them, I can.” Ed watched her turn to him, a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Offering me your services, Mr. Riddler?” she asks.

He smiled, fond. “Only to people I can bare.”

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was appreciative. “You don’t have to interfere with my personal issues when it doesn’t involve you.”

“But the issue _is_ about me, isn’t it?” Ed quaintly took a sip of the wine on the table in front of him. She shrugged in response.

“Doesn’t mean you should be nosing around in our business. I can handle it. They’re having trouble coming around.” When Ed was silent she added, “It’s a good thing Ivy contacted us through Selina about this whole…mess, otherwise they might have had time to actually kill you.”

“Can’t have that,” Ed says with feigned remorse.

“Well _I_ can’t. Not for now. I need you around,” She smiles at him. “Maybe Penguin can take you off my hands and we both win.”

“I’m not an object,” Ed said instantly, “and I wouldn’t exactly call that a win. Not by my standards.”

“Ed, honey, you’re cute. But I know you’ve been itching to see him ever since we all heard the news. I don’t know for what reason. You planning another mass revenge? Or just letting him off easy?” Barbara was doing her favorite thing; subtly wringing information out of someone else, info that made people uncomfortable. And yet, Ed was unfazed by her insensitive prodding.

“I’m not going to kill him,” Ed’s eyes flickered to the front door way, and he let out a sigh realizing Ivy might not be back for another hour, maybe two. “He paid his dues.”

“I’d be annoyed if person I loved betrayed me, and the revenge shot didn’t even kill them,” she shook her head distastefully, leaning back into the chair with her fur coat folded over the back.

“I never said I loved him,” Ed whispered, expression distant again.

“You never said you didn’t either,” Babs sat up to lean closer. “I know you do. Without words, I still see it. It’s the same with me and-” her gaze travels to the kitchen again and she swallows her words. “Well you get the idea.”

“I did say it.”

“What?”

“I told him I didn’t love him,” Ed’s eyes connected with Barbara’s and he watched the shock on her face heighten. “To his face, before I shot him.”

“You never told me this,” Barbara whispers.

“That was the only thing I left out when I told you about how it all took place.” He smiles, “I didn’t mean it when I said it. I was speaking like a machine would. And yet I still don’t know what I feel. Not that it matters anymore.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, Eddie. Are you good?” Barbara asked this, but didn’t receive an answer. Ed stared at a fixed point on the door in front of him, awaiting Oswald and Ivy’s arrival. She had never gotten him to open himself up to such a degree. “Just promise me you won’t do anything rash once you see him, kay?”

“I won’t,” he states quietly.

She stood up and left him sitting in silence. He could hear her talking quietly with Butch and Tabitha but didn’t care to zone into the conversation. Ed knew it was about him, and he no longer desired to listen to their arguments.

The catch was, a part of him knew how he felt. What would happen if Oswald were to return; he knew. Just like his Kristen had returned to him all those weeks ago. The rage, anger he felt towards the former Mayor no longer resonated within him. It left him thinking nights alone in his home, what he would do if Oswald came back to him. If life gave him yet _another_ second chance, perhaps…

The doorknob rattled and he heard voices from outside. One of a woman, Ivy. He had first met her only an hour ago after they tracked down the address to this house. Even after hearing confirmation from Selina, he still found it difficult to believe Oswald was roaming around alive. It bothered him Oswald had not made his presence known. He would have expected the Penguin to take back the city with spotlights and fireworks. Instead he was just camping out in the middle of nowhere with some woman.

Another voice spoke to her, arguing by the sounds of it, and he could recognize that oddly-pitched raspy tone anywhere. Ed instantly and without prior thought rose to his feet watching closely as Oswald and Ivy entered the living room. Ed stared blankly, no thoughts processing in his mind as his whole world zoned in on this one man.

He could hear voices talking, behind him and in front, but he stared idly at the small man before him, cheeks freckled and shaded pink from the cold. Oswald mirrored him, mouth agape for a moment before he straightened up and managed to speak first. “Hello Edward.”

“Mr. Penguin,” the change of name barely registered with Ed, since the wave of nostalgia had been so strong. He had unconsciously used the old title. The exchange between them was polite, still a fire burning between them vaguely resembling a form of passion, of _what_ form Ed was uncertain.

“Before the next World War occurs, let’s talk business. A’right?” Babs states frankly, but the room was suddenly silent. Babs sat down first and Butch, Tabitha, and Ivy followed, awkwardly seating themselves. Ed tore his eyes away from Oswald, whose expression he still could not read.

He looked to Barbara, almost in a plea; he watched her roll her eyes. “ _No_. Later maybe, but we can’t postpone this discussion just to give the both of you time to talk it out. Honestly at the moment, I don’t trust either of you to not kill the other…again. Business first, then we’ll give you both some space. Deal?”

“I have nothing to say to him,” Oswald said quaintly, sitting beside Ivy. Ed held back a cold laugh. So, that’s how he wanted to play things. Edward was privy to these types of games.

“Are you sure?” Ed asked. Oswald looked to him.

“If you have something you wish to discuss, then I would be happy to indulge you later, Edward.” The words rolling off Oswald’s tongue were shrouded with ice, and yet he maintained a warm and hospitable posture.

Without another word, or a glance, Ed sat beside Barbara on the couch.

“Alrighty then. Business.” Babs said this with a grin after delicately cracking her knuckled.

 

* * *

 

 

It was just an abundance of drivel; subjects Edward had heard over and over again in the past few weeks. They needed to take down the Court of Owls. And since Oswald was deemed living, they had desired, or rather _required_ , his help. It was going to take a lot to sway the man; Ed knew Penguin well. And while he was still trying to play the “cold-shoulder” game so to speak, he found his eyes travelling over the expanse of Oswald. He looked healthy, his pants snugly fit, and black button up shirt unbuttoned once or twice at the top. Oswald’s eyes were locked on Barbara, deep in thought listening to their proposition.

Edward had never noticed the fascinating structure of his jaw, or the way his soft lips curved into a smile. He was ignorant to the fact he was daydreaming, until Oswald moved to look at him and caught him staring. Ed sat up instantly and cleared his throat.

“I asked you a question,” Barbara repeated.

“Oh, apologies. I was… thinking.” Oswald didn’t look at him with rage then. Sort of sympathetic. _Oh_. His gaze was mournful. Odd. Ed fidgeted in his position. Despite the brick-layered exterior he had built around himself, Oswald was seeming to break through his walls easily enough.  

“I asked if this is going to be a problem.” Barbara waved her arm back and forth between the two of them. The whole room watched as Oswald stared at the Riddler, a new glint in his eyes.

“No problem,” he said sharply. The cold tone was back, and it took everything Ed had to maintain his own expression of indifference.

“No problem at all.”

“’Good!” Babs chimed. “So it’s settled then, Penguin?”

“I agree to your conditions, Barbara.” Penguin didn’t take his eyes off Ed. “As long as the terms remain that you are no longer to meddle in my personal affairs, then I am not up to par for another trivial battle.”

Ah, so that’s why he agreed so easily. Ed understood now.

“That’s good to hear,” Tabitha said dryly. “I was afraid we’d have to _persuade_ you.”

“I’m not so easily _swayed_ , dear.” Oswald’s eyes finally moved to look at her. Ivy sat next to him and finally spoke up for the second time this evening.

“You guys really have a lot of issues with each other don’t you,” she says innocently, as if expecting a reaction. What a strange girl. She looks at Ed, her eyes bulged and wild. “He’s the guy who shot you, right Ozzie?”

Oswald looks at her fondly for a moment, the ghost of a smile on his face. He doesn’t respond before she narrows her eyes at Ed and says grimly, “Asshole.”

Butch laughs, and Ed feels an unexpected pang of guilt in his chest; he looks away from the group, the expression of indifference on his face eroding by the second. What right did this woman have to talk to him like that? She knew nothing of his life. He wondered briefly if Oswald had told Ivy everything about what had happened, all of his and Ed’s experiences together. He felt sick. So perhaps Oswald found another person to connect with. Wasn’t Oswald the one who said they could not live without each other? Not that Ed believed that.

Ed’s hands twitched at his sides as he watched the red-head whisper something to Oswald.

“Okay boys, I think you earned your free time. Come Ivy, let’s leave these boys alone. We can take you out back to talk to Selina, see if she wants to be of any help okay?”  Barbara asked, reaching out a hand to help her off the couch.

“If any harm comes to her while you’re handling her, I’m no longer going to be this polite,” Oswald threatens.

Barbara rolls her eyes. “I know, I know.”

Ed wants to laugh. Was Oswald serious? Since when was he so protective over some random woman. Someone of her level of stupidity no less? And just because she helped nurse him back to life? He tried to dismiss any thought that there had been relations between them. It was not a thought he wished to entertain.

He wouldn’t mention it, why should he?

When the trio left the room with Ivy, Edward found himself asking first and foremost, “So I see you and Ivy get along well.” _Crud._

“Well enough,” Oswald answered. He didn’t smile, or offer another conversation, just sat and stared. Without the boisterous company of everyone else in the room, his defenses seemed to be down.

“Are you and her…” Edward chastised himself, but it was as if the words left his mouth without his control. At least it was some form of small talk.

To his surprise, Oswald’s eyes widened and he started laughing, head thrown back for a moment. “Good, god, Edward. She’s 14.”

“Oh. Oh? I didn’t…impossible.” Ed stood there, every gear in his brain spinning, despite the confusion the instant relief he felt was refreshing.

“It’s a, um, long story,” Oswald smiled. “One for another day.” Ed’s chest tightened. Another day? He was talking as if they’d spend time together after the whole Court of Owls ordeal. The idea didn’t behoove him.

“Sounds like an interesting story. I look forward to it,” Edward’s voice rang.

“I forgive you, Edward. I don’t hold a grudge,” Oswald said suddenly and Ed couldn’t help his own sharp intake of breath. He hadn’t been fishing for forgiveness. _Why_. “Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed. That may or may not come out time to time.”

Oswald moved forward in a few strides. “I hope you’re not one to hold grudges.”

Edward stared down at him incredulously. Oswald had paid his dues on that pier. That wasn’t the issue. He wasn’t one to hold grudges, but he assumed Oswald would have his head. Perhaps this was all a ploy to get on his good side and turn on him. Yet, by now he had calculated how Oswald lied, and considering his eyes now, Edward could see he was emitting a sheer sense of honesty and intimacy.

“I’m not,” he answered simply. Oswald smiled, real and soft, and Edward felt an unfamiliar churning in his stomach, feeling mildly sick. And at the same time, the slight nausea was not unwelcome, almost comforting. The smaller man seemed to be moving in for a big hug, and Edward panicked, jetting out his hand almost instantly in response.

Oswald was taken aback when he was poked in the stomach with an open palm, but he smiled wistfully and took it in his own. “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you…” he smiled, “again.”

He turned to walk away after dropping Edward’s hand, but Ed grabbed his arm before he could take one more step. When Oswald turned to look at him, he seemed sad. As if he knew what Ed would say or ask, and didn’t want to hear it. “What is it, Ed?” he questioned, voice weak.

“Do you,” Ed paused. Just three more words, just one long leap of effort and it would be over with. All questions he had left would be answered. He cleared his throat and started over, having trouble looking Oswald in the eyes. “Do you still… love me?”

Silence. Oswald stared back at him, expression unreadable. His lips quivered open momentarily and then closed. He took Ed’s hand which was still clasped around his arm, and gently pried it off. He smiled warmly, affectionately almost and then said, “No, Ed.”

This time, he did walk away without interruption, leaving through the door leading to the back. Edward stood there paralyzed in his stance, staring into empty space. Yes. It was a Yes he was expecting. Not because he wanted it to be a Yes, but the fact that it wasn’t…

Ed huffed indignantly. What was this? He thought he knew everything about the broken bird, but apparently, he had been mistaken. A voice in his head kept whispering, _maybe he was right, maybe you were wrong._

 _This will be the cold-blooded murder of someone you love_.

He tried shaking the words that haunted him each night from his head, but now they seemed more prominent than ever.

He sat down, his head resting in his hands. What the hell was happening to him? He wondered momentarily if that Oswald he saw just now had even been real. Just another figment of his imagination to torture him? Someone had to ground him before the screaming in his head translated into reality.

“Hey, nerd leprechaun, what’s wrong? We’re all waiting on you.” Babs voice snapped him up out of the chair. He straightened up, but her eyes were already wide with wonder. “Hey, Eddie, you okay?”

“Never better,” his voice sounded small. Barbara knew he was lying, but it wasn’t her responsibility to mess with his personal life right now. She nodded for him to follow her, and he did.

 

* * *

 

“But _this_ way the court wouldn’t expect us,” Barbara argued. Selina raised a brow, her arms crossed.

“I’m just trying to give you some advice, Barbara,” Selina snipped. Ed barely looked up from the table where they had a massive array of paperwork and planning just to say,

“You should listen to her. She’s smart for someone her age.”

“Someone _my age_ , riddle guy?” Selina says with a near-hiss.  

“I told you,” Ed spoke quickly, locking his eyes onto her petite frame, “It’s _Riddler_.”

“Is that supposed to sound cool?” Oswald questioned, Ivy snickering behind him. Oswald added, “And the whole ‘everything in my wardrobe is green’ thing is already getting old.”

Butch chuckled. “That was cold.”

Ed wanted to return the snide comment, but Barbara let out an exaggerated sigh of frustration. “Can we please just agree on a game-plan here? Shut up for five seconds, and just be useful.”

Ed stared across the table at Oswald, watched how he listened to Barbara, how he cast rude glances to Butch and Tabitha. When Oswald noticed Edward’s gaze, he smiled at him, almost apologetically for the previous comment. When Ed smiled in return, he went back to listening.

The Riddler swallowed nervously, still watching Oswald. His hair looked so soft. _Damn it be a man_ , he thought to himself. Oswald _knew_ who Ed was, and even then, he was treating him like a simple old friend. Like _all_ his old friends. Ed was much more than that; he should at least be appreciated on the level of intimacy they used to have for one another. A level, Ed believed should still be prevalent. Didn’t he deserve that? Didn’t they both?

“Hey Ed, what can you do?” Barbara asked. He had zoned out on most of the conversation, but already heard from her before back at the Sirens. He took a moment to process the plan of attack.

“I can make a city-wide diversion to distract the GCPD while you deal with the Court. Details, I’ll figure out later, but aren’t our biggest concern right now.”

“Good, Ozzie you’ll be able to help him out with all that, right?” Barbara questions, a hand hanging in the air at her side. Oswald looks shocked for a moment but he nods his head.

“Great! Negotiations have been settled. I appreciate this group’s level of civility, despite what we’ve all gone through. Though, your maturity has much to be desired.” Babs speaks to the whole group but mostly looks at Butch and Tabby who stand with smug curved lips.  She looks at Ivy, “Love, how many guest rooms are in this place?”

“I dunno, this ain’t my house,” Ivy says.

“There are three bedrooms all together, which is a lot considering the size of this place. One king, the rest queen sized.” Oswald answered for Ivy and Ed admired his scrutiny of his own surroundings. Three steps ahead as per usual.

Barbara sighs. “Okay, Selina and Ivy you take one of the queen bedrooms, us three will take the king sized, and Os and Eddie, you um, you get the other room.” She smiled deviously and broke the group apart, gesturing to head back into the main part of the house. Butch raveled the papers on the table up and followed with Tabby. Ed grabbed her firmly by the arm as they were leaving through the door. “Why would you assume we would want to be in a room together.”

“I didn’t assume anything Eddie. I was just trying to help you out, And I’m sure as hell not sharing a room with you and leavin’ Os with Butch and Tabby. _Have fun_ ,” she smiles flashing her teeth and rips her arm from his grip. He watched her leave, feeling momentarily defeated before he feels a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Ed.”

 

* * *

 

The bedroom Oswald brought them to was small, but the bed large enough for them not to invade each other’s personal space. They had shared the same bed in Ed’s apartment more than a year ago, so there wouldn’t be a problem. There _shouldn’t_ be. Yet, Ed couldn’t shake an odd feeling.

“I call the right side,” Oswald says casually, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. Ed wondered if he was rushing for a reason. Ed hung his own suit jacket on a coat hanger to the side of the sliding closet door. There was one light, dimly lit on Oswald’s side of the bed. When the smaller man slipped out of his shirt, Edward’s gaze fell to the whitened and dry looking scar located on Oswald’s abdomen.

Oswald caught him staring but didn’t object. Ed didn’t remove his eyes from the scar as he began to unbutton his own shirt. Still wearing the undershirt beneath, not leaving Oswald privy to what was underneath. “Did it hurt…a lot?” Edward asks suddenly, sitting with his back faced to his old friend, removing his shoes. He hears a soft chuckle.

“It hurt in many ways, but not so much physically.” There was a long pause before Oswald adds, “You should know that.”

“I do,” Edward answers, wanting to say more. “Goodnight Oswald.”

“Goodnight Edward,” the light is shut off immediately, and Ed feels the mattress dip behind him as the smaller man clambers into bed. When Edward gains enough motive to turn and look at him, he sees Oswald’s back is turned to him; he’s on his side, hair ruffled and flattened, his shoulders pale and freckled.

Reminiscent of all those months ago, Mr. Penguin? Edward catches himself smiling before he can help it.  He climbs into bed, and mirrors Oswald, hoping that somehow he can stop focusing on the rhythm of his friend’s breathing.

 

* * *

  


Edward jolted awake from the crash of thunder. He hadn’t heard crack that loud in a storm since the nights he spent in his bedroom closet, attempting to focus on the storm rather than his father’s incessant screaming. Shaking the thought from his head, he turns to see if Oswald had woken up as well. He was gone, empty pillow sinking into its middle.

Panic rushes through him for a moment. “Oswald?” he calls. It’s a weak attempt. He gets up and grabs a coat that isn’t his in a tired haze. He slips it on around his undershirt and boxers, and leaves the room without his glasses more as a judgement call rather than being forgetful.

The lightening outside flashes by the windows once he’s in the kitchen. He sees the outlines of every piece of furniture the living room for here for a mere luminous second, but no Oswald. He strolls out into the room with the entrance to the balcony. The purpose to this room baffled Edward There was chairs of all different sorts, and pans hanging from the ceiling, and the plants everywhere. He assumed Ivy had something to do with the immature array of belongings in the house.

Oswald was there, head leaning against the window as rain pattered down outside, watching the lightning flash, not even flinching when the thunder boomed. Edward jumped, a full jolt back, but he _knew_ why he had this reaction. And it wasn’t something he wanted to think about now. He neared his old friend, and Oswald didn’t have to turn to greet him. “Hello, Ed.”

Ed doesn’t know how to respond; he merely strolls up to the cushioned seat before the window, sitting next to him. It was far too close, but the barriers of intimacy seemed lost to them both. “Have trouble sleeping?” Oswald asks after a few minutes of silence. He still stares out the window, and when lightning flashes yet again, Ed takes a moment to admire the crystal green eyes staring out into the black rainfall. He had never noticed their color so prominently before.

Oswald catches him off guard by turning to him, expecting an answer. “The thunder woke me,” Ed says quietly.

“I think it’s comforting,” Oswald responds with a small smile. “Almost like a white noise.”

“I suppose,” Edward says back, not wanting to delve into the reasons it makes his skin crawl. They remain in silence for a while, neither of them bringing up one of the many elephants in the room. Ed found himself feeling slightly suffocated. The close proximity of the man he thought he had killed just weeks ago was overwhelming.

He held contempt for himself; in the way he was only now starting to recognize the freckles painting Oswald’s soft features. How Oswald’s hair seemed silkier than one of his expensive Egyptian cotton sheets from the mansion. The way his eyes glistened when he was praised or the way his lips curved into a smile. Ed couldn’t stand how it was near impossible for him to stop staring at the man; and yet he couldn’t take his eyes away even if he tried.

He was shaking suddenly, tears burning in his eyes but not falling from them. He wanted to speak, say something but the feelings in his stomach to his chest churned on keeping him paralyzed. His hand twitched at his side. Thunder crashed, louder than when it had woken him up, and he jolted, his hand slamming into the window suddenly. Oswald swerved around and his mouth dropped slightly when he saw Ed was having some form of an attack. He took Ed’s trembling hand in his and tried to get the man to look him in the eyes. “Eddie, hey, are you okay? Listen to me, focus on my voice alright?”

Ed was able to nod, staring down at his shaky hands. He felt barely there, if only Oswald could-

Oswald takes Ed’s face in his hands grabbing him close. “Ed, I’m here. I’m real okay? I…” he trails off, catching himself about to say something he would regret. “Can you hear me?”

Ed stares at him, feeling cured from his presence alone. It scared him that he thinks he could be held by these hands all day and he’d be fine. The eyes staring back at him were intense, but only gave him comfort. His stomach flipped again. He needed to leave before-

He stood, tearing himself away from Oswald’s soft hands. The feeling of them gone tore at his insides, but he needed to get somewhere else. Just for the moment. He didn’t say anything as he stumbled towards the balcony, moving outside in a hurried pace. The rain grounded him once he was outside. He was drenched almost instantly, but the cool water on his searing hot skin felt vital.

Ed bit the skin around his thumb, searching for something to ground him from these intrusive passionate thoughts. He gripped the rail of the balcony steadily and heard the door open again behind him, his heart jumping to attention. “Oswald… please, leave me.”

Oswald’s being here was all he wanted, but he knew what would happen if Oswald stayed. The rain pounded heavily in his ears and he could feel Oswald stop in his tracks feet behind him, waiting. Ed wanted to laugh. Or cry. Oswald treated this like it was a natural course of events. Ever so patient; he waits for Ed to speak first.

Ed doesn’t turn around and tries to even out his breathing, squeezing his eyes shut. Desire boils up in him similar to an inescapable current. “Don’t,” Ed says weakly, his fingertips whiten around the rails as he feels himself pulling away.

“Why no?” Oswald asks simply. It’s a _simple_ question, after all. Ed’s grip on the rails loosen entirely and his arms drops to his sides. And Oswald whispers, “Ed…”

Ed swerves around and thrusts his body forward with the clumsy movements of his feet, crashing his lips into Oswald’s. His body slams against the smaller frame, feeling an intense spark. Oswald takes control immediately, moving his hands up Ed’s arms aggressively to grip his face tight. This is what they both wanted. Yes, it remained a simple notion. Ed couldn’t concentrate on one singular thought as Oswald’s lips moved against his, coaxing his mouth open. The rain could no longer cool the heat rising in his throat, his hips, his legs, his cheeks. Oswald grabbed his hips suddenly, dragging his thin body closer and Ed felt a rush of ecstasy that broke the connection of their hasty kiss. With a gasp and his jaw-slack, he threw his head backwards, exposing his neck. The storm drained out the unflattering noise he had made.

Oswald took advantage of this mere second his neck was divulged, sucking and biting on one fixated spot. Ed’s hands now moved wildly, one resting firmly in Oswald’s hair, the other scraping at his shoulder, until he found out his neck wasn’t enough. He grabbed Oswald’s chin with one large hand and brought him up to kiss him again, moaning into his mouth.

The smaller man backed them both up into the window, and Ed felt the frames digging into his spine. He couldn’t find it within himself to care as the love he felt for the man before him revealed itself for all to see. Blind. Or in Denial, is what he had been.

Oswald bit at his lip, moved his tongue in fast and lust-driven, as it seemed he was making up for lost time. The emotions coursing through them, visceral, as their bodies moved against each other like tidal waves. “I love you,” Ed says, his voice hoarse and worn. Oswald still kisses him, ignoring his words. He had already known. “I know you said you don’t love me-”

“You really don’t know how true love works do you, Ed? I was lying, dumbbell.” Oswald smiles at him. “I also lied about not holding a grudge. That was sort of my revenge.”

“Telling me you don’t love me was revenge?”

“I know how much you love affection and attention, my dear.” The endearing term made Ed’s heart jump, only reaffirming Oswald’s current claim. “It was only a matter of time until I snatched you up for myself.”

“You’re still very cocky,” Ed couldn’t help himself from smiling, feeling like his old self if only for a few stray moments.

“I’d say it’s one of my strong suits, wouldn’t you?” Oswald questions, a finger stroking from a curled strand of hair down to Ed’s jaw.

“Dubious,” Ed deadpans.

Thunder crashes again, and Ed stiffens in Oswald’s arms, grabbing helplessly at his shoulders. He realizes suddenly the gravity of the situation and removes himself from the smaller man’s grip. This type of intimacy with Oswald was foreign to him, and he instantly felt out of place. “We… should go inside.”

Ed turns to walk inside, still trembling from the high of the shocking kiss and the storm. Lightheaded. He needed to get back in bed, and whatever this had been would be addressed with Oswald tomorrow. He waited for the man to follow, “Please Oswald. You need rest too.”

“Soon, friend.” Oswald looked after him, robe drenched.

“Make sure you don’t catch a cold.”

“I’d say the same to you,” Oswald muses. He stays smiling staring at the darkness of the night through the rain. Ed forces back a smile and returns inside, cursing himself for getting any part of the floor wet. Before going back into their bedroom, he turns to look out the window and sees Oswald grinning, spinning clumsily, and kicking the water on the balcony floor.


End file.
